damned_institute | Day 51: Men's Showers [Second Shift]

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Day 51: Men's Showers [Second Shift]

Bah. So much for yet another suggestion of von Karma's. Such priorities this Institute had. They would implement a foolish suggestion to introduce origami lessons and to offer sewing supplies to select patients, yet refused to allow them to cleanse themselves more often than twice a week -- and, of course, without any additional privacy? How many more of his reasonable suggestions would the Head Lunatic make a point of ignoring?

von Karma scoffed, shaking his head as he entered the shower facility. Fortunately, it appeared that he was the first one in here. As soon as the announcement over the intercom had blared out signaling the shift change, von Karma had been quick to excuse himself from his conversation with Naraku to promptly head for the showers. It had been bad enough last time that there were already three men in the showers by the time he arrived. This time, he would make certain that he would be the first one there.

Without wasting a single second, he disrobed, meticulously washed off the grime from the past several days, dried himself, then got dressed. All within a perfect three minutes, zero seconds, before anyone else had a chance to enter. He would have preferred a much longer time to devote to hygiene, but he didn't want to risk any needless immodesty in front of anyone.

Now finished, he exited the restroom and entered the Sun Room.

[To here]

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After breakfast with Doctor Jones, Kirk felt... not better, but clearer, at least. More focused. He took his time with the bulletin, first putting his notices up, then getting an answer to what the hell last night's intercom screech had been about. Different languages, huh? That answered a thing or two he'd been wondering about. Uhura would either love or hate this place.

A nurse was there to lead him to the showers when he was done, and Kirk wasted a couple more minutes in the changing area getting his clothes off, finding that while the staff had done a lot to patch him up this morning, they hadn't bothered with painkillers. (Asking the nurse to give him a hand earned Kirk a tight-lipped look but a quicker strip-down than he'd received from his last five girlfriends. The woman was indeed a professional.)

With his shirt off, he could get a proper look at his injuries for the first time: bandages wrapped tight around his torso, covering two-thirds of the way up his chest, and as he ran his fingers over the neatly placed rows, he could feel the slight bumps of the stitches holding his flesh together. Scars from the last animal attack ran from under the bandage to curl over his right shoulder, dark and well-healed. Kirk had been badly hurt before, but this was the first time he'd looked so marred. His skin could probably be regenerated to like new when they returned home, but for now, it seemed he was stuck with carrying the scars.

If they spent much longer here, these wouldn't be his last ones either. Whatever. Kirk could still walk and he was still himself — that was all that mattered, although Bones would probably scowl at his attitude. The doctor was already showering as he walked into the main area. He briefly considered joining Bones again, but decided against. There was a lot they'd left undiscussed from last night, but somehow he had the feeling that it would be better to save it for when they weren't in a public shower.

Instead, Kirk set a shower head running and took a seat nearby on one of the small stools, heedless of how undignified he might look. He knew enough about how pre-modern stitches worked to know a full shower wasn't a good idea right now, but the memory of the rotting, snarling cat and his own blood soaking his clothes was still enough reason to get a proper clean. Nudity had never particularly bothered him anyway, his own or that of others.

He scrubbed at his left arm first, working the wet towel around the bandage which sealed last night's bite mark.

[Dean]

Edited 2010-08-12 09:53 (UTC)

Angels. Yeah right and he guessed next on the list was unicorns and the Fairy Godmother.

Dean was still shaking his head over that one as he pulled the patient monkey suit off. It wasn't really the first time they'd run into someone claiming to be a servant of the Lord or taking a hit on some unlucky bastards and calling it God's work. It happened. But he could safely say that he hadn't ever met himself an angel, ever, and he wasn't gonna start up with the Hail Mary's just 'cause some guy ran up to him claiming he had some invisible halo or whatever. Still, it wasn't like the last "angel" they'd run into - for starters, this Castiel guy (Christ, it didn't exactly roll off the tongue, did it?) looked a lot more solid then their last customer and wasn't exactly as murderous. Weird, sure. But if he'd ganked anyone, he hadn't gone out and said it. Call it a hunch, but Dean got the feeling Castiel wasn't much of a ninja on the Keep Your Mouth Shut front.

Blurting out you were an angel didn't strike him as the most effective way of getting someone to trust you.

Dean didn't bother folding his clothes. He made a point of leaving it in a nice messy little pile in the middle of the floor. Most of it wasn't just to make a point (okay, maybe a tiny bit was). Didn't matter that much to him if he was stuck in some dressed up prison or back sharing some crap-ass motel with Sam.

The showers weren't too crowded. "Too" was relative; to him, any junk in his face that wasn't his junk was one junk too many and being here two weeks already didn't make him all gung-ho for the sausage fest in the showers. Still, there wasn't much point to being a little bitch about it. It was either suck it up and juke past Balls Central or have to shower during the night and risk a vampire ambush.

That vampire bite still felt weird, Dean reaching up to touch it again as he entered the main shower area, careful not to slip on the wet tile. The bite didn't feel as ugly as it had before, the edges knitted slightly over more than it had a few days ago, far faster than it normally should have. There was a decent day on the job and then there was impossible and he plain didn't heal that fast. Sam's injuries had faded fast, too, come to think of it.

Dean picked a shower near what he figured was the best vantage point he could get in a place that didn't really have any in the first place. Wasn't like there was much cover and the slippery floor wasn't much better. Old habits.

He ducked his head under the running water, rubbing shampoo into his hair, eyes falling on the stitches on the patient next to him.

"Nice war wound," Dean said, tipping his chin at it. "Bet that'll impress the ladies." He offered a casual, friendly grin, and made it a point not to look down and get into a friggen dick measuring contest no matter how tempting it was.

Kirk got through scrubbing most of his body before anyone felt like talking to him, trying to hit a decent medium between speediness and thoroughness. Maybe if he weren't being careful to not soak his stitches, he would've liked to linger longer in the luxury of a hot shower, but as it was, he was content to get in a passably decent clean and get out. Despite apparently only having showers twice a week, repellent B.O. hadn't yet become an issue. It was easy enough to figure out why: from his non-bloody state when he woke up this morning, some kind of washing obviously happened while he was unconscious. Deeply disturbing, yes, but one less thing for him to worry about.

Which wasn't to say that he minded company right now. Kirk had glanced up by reflex when the other man passed, assessing him in a glance: short hair, about his age or older, good-looking enough, with the sort of build he often saw on fellow combat students. And scars, and bruises. This guy was no newly minted cadet — nor a newbie to Landel's either. Interesting.

Kirk's return grin was just as easy. "So I'm hoping." He ran his towel over his neck and shoulders, then tossed it aside to grab the small bottle of shampoo. "The nurses haven't started swooning yet, but I figure these'll start looking like rugged scars if I give it time. Which would be... a couple days, knowing this place."

"Nurses seem like they're a real tough sell," Dean snorted. He'd been sure that Hello Nurse had checked him out a few times but that was basically it. She didn't strike him as the kind of chick to go for a casual screw.

Out of habit, Dean kept the guy in the corner of his vision as he ran some shampoo through his hair. Looked like the other patient noticed the same thing he had, that whole healing too fast for a human thing which was well past the point of just being a badass or having a load of luck. He still wasn't sure how they did it. Sure, there were probably spells for that sort of thing. Not saying it was totally impossible. But the whole implication of it wasn't exactly comforting - healing them up so they'd be nice and fresh (sorta) for the next round of ass kicking, he figured. One hell of a dick move in the long run. In the short run? He'd pick healing freakishly fast over stone cold dead.

He ducked his head under the water, scrubbing at his hair with his fingers.

"I'm Dean," he said. Rather skip the last name if he could. The thing responsible for this place probably already knew who they were - who everyone was, there had to be some kind of twisted logic why each of 'em was here - but that didn't mean anything else here had to. "Think it'd be better to skip the handshake."

He flashed the guy a quick, sidelong smile.

Kirk laughed at Dean's last comment. "Kirk," he offered in lieu of a handshake, hesitating for only a second. He usually offered his full name to others, as much for reasons of vanity as anything else, although he had noticed how some people went to special lengths to hide their identities on the bulletin board. A little too late for him, with all his check-in posts, not that Kirk was really bothered with making himself a public figure in Landel's patient population.

But there was a casualness to this situation which he liked, and he let himself roll with it, instead of dredging up the seriousness with which he'd greeted Doctor Jones last shift. Still, he'd been aware enough of himself to choose "Kirk" over "Jim" — nothing against Dean, only that he was realizing more and more that the name which was most relevant in this hell-hole was the one he carried as a Starfleet officer.

He wasn't just Jim Kirk anymore. Part of him, he realized, was perfectly okay with that. "So, speaking of war wounds," said Kirk, and hit his own neck with one hand, in the same place he'd noticed an injury on Dean's. "Do I want to know what kind of animal did that to you?"

Kirk.

You got to be kidding me.

That was either the most badass name ever to get given to a kid or Kirk here was the most badass man alive for picking that name to run with. Maybe the men’s showers wasn’t the right place to almost go gay for someone but hey, the guy had some real class there. Dean had to fight to keep the grin from getting too wide, especially when it was already approaching smirk territory there. Kirk and Spock, both here. Next thing he knew, they'd probably roll out the red carpet for Scotty. Awesome.

Dean just barely resisted the urge to throw out another Vulcan salute. Maybe he wasn’t the classiest, most educated guy out there, but he figured even he could draw the line at not Vulcan saluting someone ass naked, thanks. Taking a moment to keep the grin under wraps and splashing his face with water, rinsing out the soap, he glanced over when Kirk pointed out the bite on his neck.

“This? Wasn’t no animal,” Dean’s smile faded, expression hardening even though his voice was still friendly, casual. “I didn’t get a good look at him. Wish I did,” at the very least he could have a description and track the bloodsucker down, try to put the thing down before he snacked on more people. “Felt like a human, though. I’d watch your back out there, don’t get stuck out there solo like I did.”

Come to think of it, aside from the freak strength and the hankering for blood, it had felt like a human. It’d hurt, sure. Still, looking back on the attack, he hadn’t actually felt any fangs, which was plain weird right there. Typical vampire like that should’ve had that secondary set of fangs. Even if it had been something like an offshoot, most of the bloodsuckers out there didn’t rock regular human teeth – or faces – when they went for the jugular (or whatever major arteries they felt like going for).

[from here]

Shower. He didn't feel dirty, but that didn't matter much. Apparently he didn't have a choice, and he was pretty sure that his female nurse wouldn't be following him in.

He'd studied all the detail he could during the walk, once again. Doors and windows and the places in the carpet that appeared to have been subjected to the heaviest foot traffic.

Inside the large tiled room, Jack stripped off his clothing and headed for a spot close to the door, but also far away enough to allow him a clear view of anyone coming through it. He turned on the spray, turned his back to the wall, and stayed for as long as he possibly could, listening to the conversations echoing all around him and trying desperately to recall any detail that might help him figure out how he'd ended up in this place.

[moved here]

Edited 2010-08-13 04:03 (UTC)

Abe slept straight through breakfast and woke up feeling, if not invigorated, at least less inclined to walk off the edge of a high place and fall to his death. They'd nearly made it to the roof, despite the interferences with the language systems (now that was a juicy tidbit). It was progress, slight but refreshing, and the ring provided them a new advantage. Perhaps he could get out of the building again...the boundaries were beginning to crack.

And now the shower, god, yes. The room was already full when Abe showed up and he politely waited for someone to leave before insinuating himself under the pleasing rush of water. He could almost feel his gills pulsing at his neck when he did this and the water slicked his thin hair back enough that it was almost invisible.

There had to be a lake or a pool somewhere nearby. Monster infested, of course, but what wasn't at night? Perhaps if he found a companion he could sate his urges some evening and swim properly.

[Free]

[Hope it's not too late to join this party. The Scarecrow was hoping to catch Abe today. Maybe not in the showers, but he's not picky. :D]

Showers had always been odd for the Scarecrow, given that he'd never really had one until his being brought to the Institute, but today was a particularly odd day. The morning with Mele had cleared his head a little, but he still felt so muddled over the previous night's events. He could somewhat see how people wouldn't believe in Oz, especially given how different the region was by comparison. The same went for Dorothy- if she'd been brought to the Institute, no matter how strong she seemed, there was a chance the Wizard Landel had managed to convince her she'd been imagining her whole journey. She didn't have the Lion's courage or Tin Man's heart or his own brains to help her there. She'd been alone, as he was now.

There was definitely something else that didn't settle well with the former strawman. Today, he felt like he didn't belong in his skin. He looked his body up and down as he walked into the showers, the water on the floor providing an interesting feeling through his feet- that man in the movie certainly did have a strong resemblance, didn't he? Was there a chance he really was just an ill man all along? Or was it as Sangamon said and that Landel had simply conjured a human form to purposely resemble that movie man? As much as he wanted to believe Sangamon, especially knowing the Wizard Landel's trickery, the Scarecrow couldn't help but feel there was more to the story than he'd been told. There was one thing he did know- the Wizard Landel couldn't be trusted, not after the things he'd done.

The Scarecrow's mind strayed from his thoughts as he spotted a familiar face in the crowded room- it was not only Abe, but an Abe who seemed happier than he did most days. That was right! He was some sort of a fish before (and there was another thought about human bodies and if Abe's body was set to resemble someone from a movie, as well. He made a note to ask his friend about that subject another time). The water probably reminded him of home.

"How do you do, Abe?" the Scarecrow asked as he approached, stopping before a nearby spicket.

Abe's eyelids fluttered under the water and he caught sight of something moving next to him. He pulled back and rubbed the water from his face so he could speak and see properly without drowning. "Hello, Scarecrow. Not as well as I could be but not as badly either," he said, almost managing to sound a bit chipper. He was like a flower, water made him blossom and brighten. And act a bit floaty.

"Yourself?" he asked, blinking his large wet eyes at his friend. It was hard to read the Scarecrow, he seemed to have the same mildly confused but optimistic expression whenever Abe met him. A mercy, perhaps, for a hapless creature to be so simple but if something was wrong Abe needed to know up front.

"I'm very well, thank you," the Scarecrow answered reflexively, whether it was entirely true or not. His mind did have some concerns, but his body was intact- the tears on his legs had fully healed, and his head was in far better condition than it had been a few days ago. It was fascinating how the human body fixed itself, no permanent patches needed! It was a good thing, too- somehow, being restuffed or having torn limbs replaced didn't seem like likely solutions for human injuries.

"Now, I'm not very good with observing things," he prefaced with a smile (he'd felt inadequate at a lot of things since losing his brains- it was a feeling that was both comforting and frustrating in its familiarity), "but you looked so peaceful just now. I don't believe I've ever seen you wear that look."

A small and appreciating smile crossed Abe's face, unnoticed by its owner (who had no idea how to make a proper smile on purpose). "It's the water, I think," he said, pointing up at the showerhead. He spread his fingers and let the water run down his arm. "I miss swimming quite dearly, I used to spend much of my leisure time in my tank. The shower is the closest thing I've had to a pool of water thus far, although I suppose in this body I couldn't do nearly the things I could at home." He tilted his head to one side and rubbed his neck demonstratively. "No gills, for instance."

Scarecrow always made him feel a little more optimistic. It was just that sunny disposition of his and the way he seemed to care so very deeply about...everything.

It was easy to relate to what Abe was saying: familiar outdoor elements like grass and trees and the sun certainly did make the former strawman feel homesick, even if he was experiencing them in a new way, courtesy of his humanity.

The Scarecrow eyed Abe's neck curiously as he rubbed the side of it, not exactly sure what he was supposed to be seeing (or not seeing, as it seemed to be in this case). Then again, he wasn't terribly familiar with fish and how they worked, apart from their underwater lifestyle. Aside from Abe, he'd never had the chance to really speak with one. "I've never been swimming before. What's it like? And what are gills used for?"

Edited 2010-08-14 01:55 (UTC)

What were gills...

Abe stood and stared at him for a moment in 'oh lord how much of an idiot are you' start confusion, mouth slightly open. "Gills," he said with a stunned tone. "They're for extracting oxygen from water. Fish use them to breathe, as did I. Didn't anyone ever tell you that?"

He kept rubbing his neck as he tried to recover from the mindboggling bit of ignorance he had just been exposed to. Scarecrow struck him as a sheltered sort of creature but he hadn't realized it was this severe.

The Scarecrow's eyes trailed to his hands a moment as he fiddled with his fingers idly, feeling his own ignorance confronting him again. "I've never really had much of a chance to converse with fish before," he said, hanging his towel from the knob on the wall before giving it a twist to turn on the water. "Aside from you, of course, though you don't really look the part now."

He fumbled with the gizmos on the wall, trying to decide which soap he'd use in his hair this time. Frankly, they all looked and smelled about the same, though the nurse insisted there was a difference. "Well, you can bet that when I get back to Oz, I'll definitely head to the lake and ask the fish there more about themselves," he said with an enthusiastic nod, finally deciding to take a little of each kind of soap. "After all, how am I supposed to be any sort of a ruler if I don't know anything about the subjects? I should have thought of that before."

"I...don't think fish are generally conversant in human languages," Abe said cautiously. He stepped back under the spray so that only the top of his head wasn't being soaked in water--he'd have preferred all of him, but he wasn't rude enough to blow off Scarecrow for a bit of precious water time.

Especially after this bizarre bit of revelation. "You're a ruler?" he asked. "Are all your people golems like you or are they other species?" Blind leading the blind and uninformed leading the uninformed. Abe really doubted that the Scarecrow, as kind and loving as he was, was capable of leading ants to a picnic. Perhaps it was some small excuse position to make him happy, like a bureaucrat's job.

Oh, that was right! The Scarecrow hadn't introduced himself by his full title in the longest time- so long that he'd forgotten to mention much about his background at all to some of his friends. The entire name had always seemed so awkward, never really fitting him as he thought it should. He was content to be known as the Wisest Man in Oz, but all the other additions to his moniker that came with having a crown seemed excessive.

"I'm acting king of Oz," he explained proudly, rubbing all the soaps into his hair at once, "on account of my highly superior brains- well, those ones I had before coming here. Most people I've met have been pretty similar to humans so far- aside from my friends the Tin Man and the Lion, though the former wasn't always made of tin and the latter walks upright like a human most of the time."

The Scarecrow paused a moment, thinking. His staying in one spot most of the time, whether it was a pole in a field or a throne in a jeweled city, probably didn't help his general naivety. "I have heard of several other kinds of folks, but I've not had the chance to meet many yet. I spend an awful lot of time in the capital, the Emerald City."

"Your...highly superior...brains..." Abe's jaw dropped just a little more. For once his lack of expression came in useful, as he was bereft of the horrified and dumbfounded face that most humans would have worn in the face of that statement. "I see."

His fingers fluttered, unsure what to do with this unusual revelation. Oz sounded like a rather hapless country if this was the wisest and most regal character in it. How could you not even know what sort of species resided in your own country?

...perhaps a government coverup was involved and he was a mere figurehead. That could work.

Abe's face didn't give much away, but something about his tone told the Scarecrow he had some doubts. "Oh, trust me, my brains were in a far better state before I got here," he said, a hint of irritation bleeding into his voice. "Not only am I missing my diploma, but they had to go and fiddle with my human brain, too. Some good it's done me so far."

The Scarecrow wondered for a moment if they'd take the Tin Man's heart and the Lion's courage if they were ever spirited away by the Wizard Landel. He hoped not- not only did he not want his friends to have to go through that strife, but he had the feeling the Lion wouldn't last long in an institution full of witches without an ounce of courage.

He pushed his hair from his face, trying to get all of the soap out of it this time. "I can't imagine ever going home until I've found my brains. I wouldn't be fit to lead anyone in the state I'm in now."

"This is your first time for showers, isn't it, Gilbert?"

Prussia didn't answer, looking pointedly away from the nurse as she led him out of the mess hall. It was true that he hadn't bathed since arriving here, but it seemed like every morning he woke up back in his room, he was also completely clean... Most noticeably, he had definitely been clean this morning. He hadn't been able to find a single speck of blood from last night...

The nurse stopped by a door, and Prussia came to a halt as well. "Gilbert?"

He ignored her, looking towards the bulletin board instead. He didn't see Raph anywhere, but maybe he was in another room. If he posted a note on the board, Raph would have to see it...

"Gilbert," the nurse said again firmly, taking his arm and maneuvering him towards the door. "You can change in here, and the showers are past the changing room."

"I don't need to—"

He glanced back at her as she pushed him through the door. In that moment, he thought he caught sight of a familiar face just past her... but she stepped inside after him and shut the door.

"I'm going to need to supervise," the nurse said, almost sweetly. Prussia was reminded again of Hungary.

Suddenly, the situation felt very awkward.

"You really don't have to," he tried to argue.

The nurse, however, would have none of his protests. He was finally forced to strip while the woman kept a post near the door, and then head towards the showers themselves. The faster he washed, the sooner he could get out of there to see if he'd seen who he thought he had...

A few minutes later, he was washed, dried, and dressed. He didn't look at the nurse as he brushed past her back into the sun room.

[To here]

Yuusei allowed himself to be lead to the showers without complaint. He'd woken up late - which was strange in and of itself - after a night of dreamless sleep, and couldn't quite remember when he'd closed his eyes. It wasn't as if he normally slept for so long, and certainly not so deeply, and Yuusei began to wonder whether or not something was in the food after all.

He voiced this concern to the nurse - the very same one from yesterday, much to Yuusei's dismay - but she merely smiled at him as she explained, very patiently, that what the Institute served its patients was nutrious and had not been tampered with in any way, and isn't it nice to have a full night's rest for once?

Yuusei frowned, letting her know that he in no way appreciated that answer, and left it at that. Of all things, it was her expression that consistently disturbed him the most-- as she spoke, it held neither pity nor anything approaching reassurance, just a blank, mechanical smile. Unreadable. It made his skin crawl, and the sensation continued even under the warmth of the shower spray, even after he'd dried off as best he could, redressed, and was taken elsewhere.

[ to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/958006.html?thread=71860534#t71860534). ]

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Day 51: Men's Showers [Second Shift]

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